Genesis
by arcee8
Summary: Before Thor's banishment and Loki's descent into darkness, the appearance of a strange woman in Asgard begins to challenge Loki's icy, mischievous facade. As the goddess of dreams, Morphia can see into men's souls, but can she save Loki from himself or will he choose a darker path?
1. Chapter 1

A tall, statuesque woman entered the feast hall amidst loud chatter and laughter, followed by two Asgardian guards.

The chatter diminished some as she walked smoothly by the long table, her long cream-colored dress trailing behind her. She was remarkably attractive, with very long, dark brown hair that curled gently at the ends and lay smoothly across her shoulders. She had strange piercings in her ears and one small diamond in her nose. She wore no other adornments except for a shapely barrette that held up on half of her hair, its shape mimicking the Yggdrasill tree, the center of all the nine realms.

She looked straight ahead as she walked, and by the time she reached King Odin, the hall was completely silent. The woman came to a gentle stop a few feet from his throne, and the guards did the same, standing on either side of her, their staffs held firmly in their grips. They slammed them into the ground at the same time, the sound echoing off the warm, golden walls.

Odin turned his gaze upon her, his one good eye staring intently at this woman no one had ever seen before.

She knelt gracefully to one knee and bowed her head, crossing her right arm across her chest. "Your majesty."

She could feel the eyes of every man, woman, and child staring at her.

"You may rise, stranger."

Rising to her full height, she clasped her hands together and held them against her pelvis.

"And you are?" Odin asked; he sat casually upon the throne, perhaps a little weary, but still remarkably majestic and wise.

"My name is Morphia, daughter of Nyx. I come from Vanaheimr, the third realm."

Odin's one good eye, gleaming blue and clear, remained upon her firmly. "You are a goddess," he said matter-of-factly.

"I am born of a goddess, your majesty."

"And I suspect you have power."

Morphia nodded gently, smiling. "I do. And I am here to offer my services."

A very tall, masculine, and muscular man sitting to the right of Odin, stood. He bore the crests of Asgard upon his chest and wore a red cape. His long blonde hair was combed neatly back. "And what services might they be?"

Morphia smiled again. "Dreams, Thor, Odinson."

The hall burst into muffled whispers, but Odin and his son stared at her, looking bemused.

"Dreams?"

The question came from behind her, and when she gazed over her shoulder in search of the voice, her eyes fell on a tall, dark-haired man with extremely clear blue eyes. He held his hands behind his back as he awaited an explanation.

"I am the bringer of dreams. I can offer for the truth that lies in the subconscious, and draw false dreams out. Whether you wish to merely be ruler of the nine realms for the hours of the night or seek out your destiny, I can offer both."

"Loki, that dream might be your only chance to rule!" a robust, largely bearded man shouted from the table. The room laughed and Morphia looked back to Loki who laughed as well, though she could see no humor in his eyes.

Odin waved his hand and laughing ceased. "A goddess of dreams. I have heard of you."

"My services are free, your majesty. I only ask for lodging in exchange. And I do not intend to stay forever. I will travel to other realms."

"And what if we don't want your _free_ services?" again the voice asked from behind her.

She smiled sweetly and looked at him again. "Then you do not ask for them, Loki, Odinson."

Loki blinked and she heard a small chuckle from Thor. Returning her gaze to Odin, she smiled softly and awaited his answer.

After a very brief moment, Odin nodded and raised his hand in gesture. "You are welcome in Asgard. Please, stay for our feast and we'll show you to a room."

"Thank you, your majesty." Morphia bowed once more and took the proffered arm of Thor as he brought her to the table. While the talking and feasting resumed, Loki stood alone at the end of the hall.

She gazed over at him once to find him looking at her, but she turned back to the table and answered a multitude of questions about her power. She promised to begin offering her services the following night.


	2. Chapter 2

Morphia was not seen again until the following evening. She appeared in the feast hall right after sunset wearing a form-fitting deep orange dress. Her arms were bare, and aside from her piercings, she wore a simple hammered choker.

Loki studied the hall from his perch by an alcove opposite the long table. He wasn't much of an eater, his diet giving him a lean, hungry sort of look. He watched his father and mother converse politely with the young woman as they sipped on wine from their goblets. Thor was engrossed in conversation with his normal group of followers; the other members of the court spoke amongst themselves and everything was quite normal.

Except for this young woman. He'd never heard of a goddess of dreams and thought the power to be quite nugatory. To what great purpose could dreams serve?

Loki looked out of the open alcove into the night sky as its darkness melted over Asgard. Millions of stars glittered in the night sky, but he was ignorant to them. Tonight he noticed how bright the moon appeared and how clearly the other planets aligned in the distance of space. They seemed almost to vibrate, they were lit so bright. As he gazed back into the hall, he noticed, strangely, that all of their light seemed to focus on one woman.

Morphia smiled and lowered her eyes coquettishly at something his father said. Her dark hair was in a simple side braid this night and even in the dim lighting of the room it seemed to shine eminently.

Loki seemed unable to tear his eyes from her, mysteriously drawn to her sight until Odin stood and slammed his staff into the ground.

"My friends. Tonight we will be witness to the first exhibition of our goddess of dreams."

A whisper of excitement flowed throughout the room as Morphia stood and walked gracefully to the center of the room.

"I'm afraid that my powers are not quite nearly as impressive as Odin's wisdom, Thor's strength, or Sif's prowess. And I certainly don't claim to possess even a token of Loki's magic—"

Several heads turned to stare at Loki as he sat on the alcove's low wall; he shrugged a shoulder and smiled half-heartedly, but she continued on.

"The evidence of my power will not be instantaneous or a show of tricks and awe. The dreamer will simply be given the dream of his or her choice and then…go to sleep. Not exactly an exciting series of events," she said with a sly grin.

"That's quite alright. We shall be impressed just the same," Odin said.

Morphia bowed her head and then looked across the room at the rows of people as they sat at the table. She spied a mother with a child draped across her lap and chest, blissfully asleep even amongst the chatter and goings-on. Morphia walked pointedly to her and whispered in her ear a moment, the guests looking on anxiously. The mother smiled and nodded, standing with the sleeping child in her arms and walking back to the center of the room with Morphia.

Morphia gestured to a guard stationed nearby to drag a small chaise lounge over to her and the mother gently laid the child upon it, whispering sweetly to him and rousing him from his sleep.

The room was quite breathless as the child awoke, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, his short legs dangling over the side. Morphia knelt down in front of him and his mother, speaking so quietly that no one could hear her.

The child listened sleepily to her, his green eyes focused intently on her pretty face. He gazed up at his mother as if to ask for permission; she nodded and smiled, rubbing his back.

Loki watched as the little boy spoke; although he could not hear him, he seemed to be explaining something to Morphia. She listened without speaking, and when the boy finished a few minutes later, she smiled and reached out to him. She pressed a hand to his temple and gently let it sweep down his cheeks, over his neck, down his chest, and rested against his heart.

He lied down immediately, curling up next to his mother and closing his eyes.

Morphia stood then and turned around, raising a finger to her lips. "We should let him sleep for a bit."

She noticed the anti-climactic air of the room and smiled, crossing her hands together. "I did tell you that it's not very exciting."

Everyone went back to speaking, albeit a bit quieter, and Morphia returned to her seat.

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. Completely useless power.

An hour later, when most everyone was growing tired of waiting, the boy awoke on his own. Everyone watched as Morphia stood and began walking to him when she stopped and turned around, reaching out for Odin's hand. "Would you please, your majesty?"

Odin looked at his wife for a moment and then stood, taking her hand. Together, the two stood in front of the boy.

"Will you tell your king about your dream, young one?"

The boy, about 5 or so, raised his eyes to the king and then up at his mother.

"Go on, my dear."

"I dreamed I was a warrior. A great one. And I killed a million frost giants. It was gonna get you, but I stopped him. I was the best warrior. Better than them all. Better than…" the boy paused a moment and looked shyly at his hands. "Thor," he said more quietly.

Odin began to laugh, and the boy played with his fingers. Odin reached down to give his shoulder a fatherly squeeze and the boy smiled, leaning into his mother. "Wonderful, my boy. Wonderful."

The room clapped politely and Morphia shrugged modestly.

When the noise began to wane, Loki stood and walked a few feet towards them. "And how is this an exhibition of your power? Any Asgardian boy could have dreamt that up."

"Especially you, Loki," Volstagg shouted.

Loki ignored the giggles and took another step closer. "What evidence is there that you manufactured this dream?"

Odin opened his mouth to speak and Loki awaited the sharp rebuke, but Morphia stepped towards him and raised her hand to silence him. "My apologies for interrupting, your majesty, but Loki is right."

Loki furrowed his brow.

Morphia smiled at him for a moment before turning her back to him and addressing the room. "I suppose I should have told you all what this young one asked to dream about, but I can assure you that what he told me did materialize in his dream."

"I can vouch for you, my lady," the mother said, standing.

"Tell us what he said, Leera," a young man said from the table.

"She asked him to tell her his favorite story. He told her it was the story of the Jotinheim war against the Frost Giants."

"And that's it? That's all he said?" Loki asked.

Morphia nodded. "So I gave the dream to him."

"So how does this _power_ work then? We tell you what we want to dream or you give us one based off a story?"

She looked at Loki as if in thought before answering. "It depends on the dreamer. You seem skeptical. Shall I try it on you?"

It was Loki's turn to stare back at her. He began to speak when Thor loudly stood and slammed his fist down on the table. "I'll volunteer. What's the harm?" he asked.

Morphia tore her gaze from Loki and smiled as Thor approached. "Tell me what you wish to dream about then."

"A glorious battle," he said without a second thought. The warriors three shouted in approval from the table behind them and Morphia laughed, stepping up to him. He was nearly two feet taller than her, and she had to reach up to caress his temple before trailing her hand down his muscular neck and chest and resting on his heart. She held her hand there for several seconds, her eyes focused on his even as he began to smile awkwardly.

Loki felt a surge of…_something_ flow through his chest as he watched the two. Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, Morphia removed her hand and smiled.

"Now, go to sleep," she said with a wink.

"Yes, it is getting rather late. We will rejoin tomorrow to discuss Thor's dream," Frigga said, resting her hand on her son's bicep. Morphia bowed her head in acknowledgement and the crowd in the hall began to disperse.


	3. Chapter 3

Thor was absent from the morning feast although it seemed as if most of the court was present. Morphia was absent as well.

Loki left the feast hall burdened with thought. Were they together? He shook his head as he walked hurriedly with no direction in mind. And why should it matter if they were?

Her presence in Asgard was completely pointless. If he were king, he would not have allowed her in to pander to the asinine amusements of a few courtiers. A simmering anger threatened to boil over as his hands clenched into fists, until he nearly ran into Thor as he rounded a corner. His elder brother barely acknowledged him.

"Thor? Where have you been?"

Thor continued walking, Loki trailing behind like always. He looked over his left shoulder but returned his gaze straight ahead. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't come to the morning feast," Loki said, catching up to him.

"Oh…I've just been…preoccupied, brother."

He did indeed look rather preoccupied, staring straight ahead and walking pointedly. "Where are you going?"

"Where is this Morphia's room? Do you know?" Thor asked, ignoring Loki's question.

Loki raised his eyebrows. "No. Why?"

"I wish to speak with her."

"But why?" Loki asked, but as soon as the question exited his mouth he knew why. "Did you dream?"

Thor stopped in mid-stride and turned to look at his younger sibling. There was a genuine discomfort in Thor's eyes. Loki shook his head, waiting for his brother to answer, trying to make sense of this sudden change in demeanor. This was not the overbearing, overachieving brother he had known.

"Of the battle?" Loki urged.

Thor nodded solemnly. "I did dream of battle. A massive one, one of such magnitude I could never imagine."

"And?"

"I lost. My men were slaughtered, Asgard was destroyed, and I was left alone, the sole survivor."

Loki let the image sink in and had to force his lips from curving into a satisfied smile. Instead, he feigned sympathy. "I am sorry, brother. So why do you need to see her?"

"She gave me this dream. And I want to know why."

Thor resumed walking and Loki followed, also interested in her explanation. They asked several servants about her residence, but none knew.

It wasn't until the evening feast that she appeared again. This night she was wearing a green linen dress with a keyhole neckline. Gold and blue stitching snaked around her torso, forming an intricate Blue Krait. A gold bracelet adorned her forearm, winding nearly up to her elbow.

A much larger group of people had joined in the hall than the night before, and their loud prattle diminished to a dull roar as she entered the room.

Loki had to admit that he was keenly interested in the exchange that was about to occur; he took his usual position in the alcove near his father's throne.

"Ah, Morphia! We have been looking forward to your appearance this night!" Thor said, standing and opening his arms out as if to embrace her in a hug. She stopped a few feet from him and raised her eyes.

"I…I thank you." Loki noticed that she did not sound as confident as she had the previous night. In fact, he wondered if he detected a tremor in her voice. "Is there something I can do for you, Thor?"

Thor stepped down from beside his father's empty throne and stood in front of her. "Yes, there is. Firstly, do you not wish to converse with us during the day?"

She smiled faintly and cleared her throat. "I am a daughter of the night, my lord. I thrive in the dark, just as my mother did."

Loki's ears perked up. He had to agree that the brightness of day did not bode well for his sense of ease; he was much happier in the night himself.

"And you can't forgo a few hours of darkness to spend it here with us in the light when my father so graciously offered you food and lodging."

Morphia's eyes never moved from his, seeking no refuge in the pitying eyes of the courtiers filling the room. "Offered in exchange for my services."

"Ah, yes! Your services! You bring me to my second question."

"Yes?"

Thor looked around the room at his fellow Asgardians, the proud warriors and defenders of the nine realms. "Is it your wish to bring war and discord to our people? To fill their minds with uncertainty and fear?"

"Of course not."

"Then why have you tainted my thoughts with your dreams? I asked to dream about a glorious battle and you gave me visions of death and defeat."

"It was not my intention to have caused you pain, my lord. You asked to dream of a glorious battle and you did, did you not?"

Thor turned away from her and addressed the crowd. "I dreamed of a glorious battle indeed! One filled with the cruel deaths of my warriors and the destruction of my home. And when all was over, I was the only man to survive, to live amongst the corpses of my friends and the ruination of the most beautiful realm of them all for eternity. Because of you and your power!"

"It was just a dream!" Loki exclaimed, leaping from his perch and having no idea why he was suddenly standing up for this strange woman.

She didn't turn to look at him; instead, she lowered her head, her hands clasped together gently in front of her. He half-expected her to thank him, but she kept silent. "Why let a simple dream cause you such torment, brother? They mean nothing. They're just…remnants of a tired mind."

"No. You're wrong," she finally said, looking at him with searing eyes.

A flush of anger rose in Loki's throat. "Oh, am I? Then please explain to us why we should find any worth in your _ability_."

"Since the dawn of history, dreams and the power of our dreams have been viewed as messages from our ancestors or even some other mysterious source beyond our understanding. Our dreams have influenced the course of history. They are the pathways into the spirit and soul. I have been given the power to see into these pathways. The images of our dreams always contain hidden layers of meaning beneath the outer appearance of what we see with our eyes. Dreams can be prophetic or healing, or even pleasurable, but you must be open to these messages, and not fear them."

"And how can you see into these pathways?" Loki asked.

Morphia swallowed. "I hesitate to answer."

"Why?"

She looked somewhat apprehensively around the room. "Because my answer could be misconstrued."

"Well, I see no other choice," Loki said with a laugh. "I suspect your services will be unsolicited otherwise."

She held his gaze for a long time, almost as if she were attempting to read him. Her body, which had been withdrawn and spiritless during her interrogation, suddenly sprang to life. She became rigid with her shoulders held back firmly and chin raised. "I can see into souls," she said loudly.

A few people gasped and others murmured in confusion, but Loki's face broke into a mocking smile and he laughed. "Do you claim to also be an oracle?"

Morphia shook her head. "I do not claim to be anything. I was given this power by my mother, and I was taught never to use it to harm others. I stand by her teachings and my own moral guidance."

"And how exactly do you _see_ into our souls? What if we don't want you poking around in there?" Loki was enjoying himself.

"Loki, please," Frigga said, obviously feeling pity for the girl.

"It's an honest question, mother."

Morphia raised her hand. "It's an honest question, but I respectfully decline to answer. I give you my word that my intentions are pure."

"Then why my dream?" Thor asked her, his voice softened.

"Thor, a brief glimpse into your soul and I saw an invincible man whose fears were smothered by an overbearing consciousness. You can take the dream as literal and let those fears take over, or you can look deeper and reveal what your heart is trying, and has been trying, to tell you." She sounded exasperated at this point.

"If my presence here has become unwanted, then I will take my leave; however, please know that I have absolutely no intention of harming a single Asgardian. I hope my power will help, not hinder, but I will leave that interpretation up to you all."

And with these words, she turned and left the hall. As everyone became engulfed in conversation again, Loki skipped out unnoticed.


	4. Chapter 4

He surveyed the hallway in one direction before scanning the other side. He noticed a single figure standing at the far end of a passage that extended out of the palace and over the grounds. The bifrost bridge stretched out into the horizon, glimmering in the moonlight.

She was glimmering too. As he neared her, he was almost reverential at her sight. With her back to him, her long hair was moving gently with the breeze, her fingertips clutching the opposite sides of her waist as she hugged herself.

He came upon her silently, and he watched her as she held her face up towards the sky, her eyes closed against the moonlight.

When he leaned against the column next to her, she opened her eyes and dropped her hands.

"Come to torment me some more?"

Loki laughed. "Torment? Asking you to lend credence to your claims of _seeing into our soul_ is torment?"

She said nothing, but blinked slowly at him.

Loki, becoming slightly uncomfortable with her silence, relaxed his stance. "I didn't come to torment you. I just want to understand why you've come here. It can't be merely altruism."

"Is that so hard to believe?" she asked.

He laughed again. "Absolutely."

"I believe that says more about you than it does about me."

Loki's smile faltered a little. "Ah, I see. Are you looking into my soul right now?"

It was Morphia's turn to smile. "You don't believe I can?"

"Honestly, no. I don't. You looked into the soul of a young boy and discovered his desire to be a grand warrior and then into the soul of my ignorant elder brother and discovered his fear of losing a battle. No one would ever have guessed."

"You think I'm simply a good reader of people?" Morphia asked calmly.

"You're as good as I am."

She blinked again, looking at him as if he were a small child and he was amusing her. "You think you can read people? I beg your pardon, but I think you give yourself too much credit."

Loki stepped towards her just as calmly, but the tension was palpable. "Oh? And why's that?"

She took a step forward—they were eye to eye. "You think because you see the obvious in people that you can judge them wholly. You think you're superior to them because they allow themselves to be open and bare their souls to a complete stranger and you don't. This antagonistic attitude of yours…it doesn't make you strong or cunning. You're not better than anyone else simply because you hide your emotions behind a façade of apathy."

"Oh! So if I just let you peruse my soul, you'll find some sweet, vulnerable boy just dying to get out?"

Morphia smiled again, but it was full of pity. He could feel the anger swelling in his throat, but he swallowed it back and raised his chin.

"No," she said. "I think I'll find something much more frightening."

He stared at her, his eyes gazing back and forth at hers. She raised a hand slowly, as if she was going to touch him, and he didn't know if he should slap it away or let it happen, but the moment was interrupted by another voice.

"Excuse me."

Both Morphia and Loki turned to look at one of the courtiers, a heavy set middle-aged man.

"What do you want?" Loki asked, unable to hold back the agitation in his voice.

"I apologize for interrupting, but I was wondering if I could see your guidance," he asked, looking shyly at Morphia.

She snuck a glance at Loki before smiling triumphantly and taking the man's arm. As they walked away, Loki heard her say, "It's not my guidance you seek, but your own," and he rolled his eyes.

He squeezed his eyes shut in annoyance when the person who entered the hall was again not Morphia. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Loki was beginning to get a headache.

He tried to keep himself from looking, but his eyes drifted over to the entrance every time a body entered the room of their own cognizance. He had to admit that it was a bit early. The sun was still just barely visible over the horizon.

When finally the sun was entirely gone from the sky and the moon had taken its place, Morphia appeared fresh-faced and an air of aplomb. She wore a long-sleeved gown that was a bright white down to her hips until it began to fade into a deep blue. Her hair was tied into an intricate fish braid.

Loki watched her with an intensity he knew he aught to conceal. She paused to speak with several people as she passed by them. He reveled at their forgetfulness. Just the night before she had been like a lamb before slaughter, but here she was, a minor celebrity with an utterly useless power.

He spent the rest of the evening watching her, slightly miffed that she didn't once look for him, although he wasn't sure why she would. Her disdain for him was evident. Most people's disdain for him was evident.

As it neared midnight, the room became less and less occupied, and when he grew tired of watching her gape into people's souls, he left.

But he wasn't ready to sleep just yet. He waited a few feet outside the entrance until she exited a few minutes later, alone.

"What a feast, aye?" he asked her mischievously.

She stopped and wrinkled her nose. "It was…lovely, I suppose."

"All those souls to feast upon," he said with a grin.

Morphia's eyes narrowed. "I didn't get a taste of yours."

"I thought mine was too frightening."

"I'm not the one whose afraid to look into it," she replied.

Loki laughed. "Afraid? I'm not afraid."

"But you don't think I can." She stepped up to him, very close, raising her hand slowly to his face.

He tried to appear unfazed by her movement, but when he felt the smallest touch of her fingertip, he grabbed her wrist forcefully, holding it in the air.

She smiled even though he was gripping her wrist tightly. "What have you got to lose? If I can't, I can't," she said softly.

His hold wavered for a moment, and then he made a decision.

With her arm now free, Morphia slowly and gently pressed her hand to his temple, her fingers running through his hair as it traveled down his cheek and neck, over his chest, before resting over his heart.

He felt locked in place. A sudden deep cold consumed his chest under her hand, spreading out past her fingers and across his shoulder blades. He was entranced by her eyes as they bore into his own. Her corneas widened until only a sliver of her irises could be seen. Even though his body felt engulfed by cold and he did not tremble, he could suddenly feel a strong vibration emanating from her arm. Her lips began to turn blue, and before he could do anything, she pulled her hand away, clutching it to her chest as if she as in pain.

There was a look to her face that was unsettling.

He expected her to say something, anything. But she met his eyes one last time before turning away without saying a single word.

He grabbed her arm to stop her, but dropped it immediately. Her skin was ice cold.

"What…what did you see?" he called after her.

She didn't stop walking, but looked over her shoulder. "Ask me tomorrow."

Loki watched her disappear down the hall, the cold in his chest beginning to dissipate. He pondered the look on her face for awhile before returning to his chambers. He didn't know if he expected her to truly be able to look into a person's soul or not, but their conversation earlier recycled in his mind. She thought it was he who was afraid to look into the deeper recesses of his self, and maybe that was true, but he wasn't the only one.

The look on her face had been one of fear. Profound and utter fear.


	5. Chapter 5

It was not easy to fall asleep. Loki lay in bed for several hours before he could keep his eyes open any longer. He was…apprehensive about going to sleep. Even though the harsh cold in his chest had long since faded, he felt its lingering presence along with a sense of confusion and foreboding.

He wondered if that sensation was normal. Did everyone she touched feel like their heart was being frozen? He thought back to the two people who he'd witness receive dreams from Morphia, but both the child and Thor seemed relatively at ease. Did that mean something?

With a hand on his chest, Loki closed his tired eyes, too tired to fight it off. He could feel the sunrise on his face as it streamed in through his windows, and then he was gone.

_He has no idea how he's gotten there. Jotinheim. Snow whizzes around him furiously, clinging to his hair and eyelashes. The cold in this place should be overwhelming, but Loki feels relatively at ease._

_Everywhere he looks there is nothing by frozen terrain. Massive glaciers tower over him. Looking right, he sees a seemingly endless field of ice; to the left, a glacier looms directly in front of it. He begins to trudge through the snow._

_As he nears it, he can see a cave is embedded at its base. The entrance is completely black. His chest tightens. There's nowhere else to go, but he doesn't want to enter the dark cavern. It feels ominous, but he cautiously takes a step inside. He can see clearly now, inside the cave, as his eyes adjust to the darkness. Looking over his shoulder, he can see the snow swirling inside the entrance. There's movement just outside the cave—it has the shape of a large cat, but it disappears behind another glacier. _

_He turns back and walks further into the cave. The cavern ceilings are amazingly high, and razor sharp ice formations hung precariously overhead. Each footstep echoes through the deep recesses of the cave, and after walking for what felt like hours, a glowing, deep blue pool came into view. _

_Standing at its edge, its depth is overwhelming, and he has a sudden fear of falling in._

_Instead, he kneels down, and with his hands shaking, reaches into the water. Submerged, they suddenly feel immensely hot. He yanks them back out again, but there's no relief. His fingers turn blue and then his palms. The heat is unbearable now. The blue completely covers his arms now, all the way up to his neck, and he feels like his skin is on fire. _

_Falling onto his back, he tried to take a deep breath as his lungs became inflamed, but the breath would not come. Choking, Loki wrapped his hands around his throat and struggled, flailing around on the ground until fear overcame him and he squeezed his eyes shut._

His eyes flew open.

The familiarity of his walls and ceiling flooded him with relief, but the respite was brief. Sitting up, he stared down at his hands. They looked completely normal. He felt his chest and neck, feeling nothing but his own skin and the pounding of his heart.

Throwing back the sheets, Loki sat at the edge of the bed, trying to breathe calmly, but the memory of the dream seared through his consciousness like lava.

He gazed over his shoulder. The sun was just beginning to set, the soft light warming his back. He'd slept through the entire day.

Of all places, why would he dream of Jotenheim? The home of the Frost Giants. His father's enemies, and his own too, he supposed. It didn't make sense.

Morphia.

She was the one who gave him these images. She looked into his soul and this is what she gave him. He didn't understand it.

He dressed quickly.

The feast hall was already full when he entered—his father and mother sat at the far end, his brother in the middle of the warriors three and Sif, the courtiers mingling around and talking and laughing. Everything was normal. He scanned them all, looking for her face, but she wasn't there. He walked around the hall urgently, his chest aching, needing to find her. He flew back out into the hallway and looked right and left, but it was empty.

He searched through the hallways, circling around. When he returned back to the feast hall, he spotted something red, a fluid fabric gliding just around the hall. He pushed through a small group of courtiers, not bothering to apologize and flew down the hall. Just as he rounded the curve, she came into view.

She was standing alone in the center, directly underneath a tall pillar. Asgard gleamed in the night light behind her, and a strong breeze lifted the length of her red cape beside her.

She was dripping in red. The cape, tied at her throat, fell over her naked shoulders and over the long red gown she wore. It fell to the floor, surrounding her body like a waterfall. An open, gold, snake-shaped necklace lay seductively around her neck and onto her chest. Her hair fell straight down her back, so dark this night it was almost black.

She was waiting for him.

"What does it mean?" he asked her, practically breathless.

The corner of her lips lifted in an almost undetectable smile, but she said nothing.

Loki grabbed her by both forearms and pressed her into the wall, her shoulders flat. "What does it mean?"

Her eyes scanned his back and forth, like she was trying to read him. He felt irrationally angry, wanting her to explain, tell him what she saw yesterday. What did the cold mean? Why Jotenheim? Why the cave? Why the burning hands?

He lifted her up and rocked back into the wall. "Why won't you speak?" he asked desperately, his blue eyes filled.

"It was just a dream. That's what you said," she finally answered, her voice so soft he almost didn't hear her. "They mean nothing."

"What do you mean they mean nothing?"

Morphia didn't try to break free from his embrace. "That's what you believe. That's what you said. They mean nothing."

Loki's nostrils flared. "Yesterday. Tell me what happened yesterday. When you touched me. The coldness. You looked…scared. Why?"

"The answers you seek can't come from me. I won't decipher your dreams for you. Only you can do that."

"Why?"

"If only it were as easy as having someone tell you who you are. That's something you must find out by yourself."

Loki exhaled angrily and let her go. They were standing just inches apart.

"Then what good is your power? What good are you?"

"I give opportunities, Loki. Opportunities for self-insight. I wasn't put in this universe to take the living out of existing."

"But you claim to look into souls! What for if not to help people see what they can't see?"

"I'm sorry, Loki," she said, stepping aside and moving past him.

She barely got a few feet when he was suddenly in front of her. And not just one of him, but several. They surrounded her. Every way she turned, Loki blocked her. She twirled around, glaring at his multiplicity. "Loki, stop!"

Instantaneously they all vanished, except one. He roughly pushed her back into the sidewall. He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his chest. "Look again. Tell me what you see."

She could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath her hand, but she looked up at him. "You can't force me, Loki."

"I can try," he said through clenched teeth.

She shook her head. "No. Why are you so afraid to look for yourself?"

Loki's eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but she lifted her hand to his cheek. "Being afraid is not a weakness. True power won't come by force."

And with this, she slipped away, her red cape trailing behind her like a flame.


	6. Chapter 6

He followed her.

She entered a room he'd never seen before. He'd lived in the palace his entire life, had traversed many halls and rooms, even had a romp or two in a courtier's chambers, but this room he could not place in his memory.

He banged his fist against the heavy metal door and it swung open loudly.

Morphia jumped and spun around, her fingers frozen in the process of untying her cape.

Loki stepped inside, stopping just inside the doorway.

"More questions?" she asked. She didn't seem annoyed; instead she was calm.

Loki felt for the edge of the door and swung it shut behind him.

"No." And he walked straight to her and cradled her head in his hands.

He kissed her.

She made a noise of surprise, but she relented as his hands moved gently towards her neck, pulling her into him. He let one hand travel down her collarbones before her pulled the string holding her cape on. It fell to the floor around her feet in a flutter.

He pressed a palm between her breasts as his lips trailed down her neck.

"Trying to read my soul?" she asked breathlessly.

He kissed her again and she moaned beneath his lips.

And then he turned her around, molding his body to hers, his hands roaming over her chest and abdomen. She leaned into him, tilting her head back so that it was resting against his shoulder. A hand crept over her neck and with the other, he gathered her hair and swept it over one shoulder. His lips brushed against her skin before he sucked gently at the nape of her neck. Her chest rose and fell deeply.

He bent her forward slightly and pulled the lacing of her dress. When her silky dress lost its tightness, it too fell to her feet.

She turned back around in his arms and tugged on the back of his collar. She quickly began to undress him.

They moved quickly at this point—he walked her backwards towards the bed. Separating from him, she sat down and looked up at him. "This won't answer your questions."

He bent down and pressed his palms into the mattress on either side of her thighs. As his mouth neared hers, she closed her eyes. "I can't give you what you want."

"You're what I want," he whispered; their lips met and she lay back as he crawled on top of her.

His hard stomach met with hers and she felt it rise and fall against hers with each breath.

She wrapped her legs around his torso for a moment as he kissed her.

His hardness pressed against her pelvis and he groaned as she lifted her body to meet his.

Their bare flesh finally touching one another, he pushed himself into her slowly, exhaling from the pure pleasure of their flesh on flesh.

She sucked in a deep breath and tilted her head back, her mouth open slightly.

Moisture developed around his hairline as he slid in and out; she pushed his hair away from his face and raked her fingers down his neck and to his biceps. She clung to his arms as he balanced himself on top of her, his arms encasing her torso in between.

He lifted his hips with every deep stroke.

There was a desperation to his movements, and his ragged breaths were filled with emotion. She held his head in her hands and looked into his eyes. She nodded her head, her own breath haggard, almost as if giving him permission to let go.

Lowering himself onto her, his lips found the curve of her neck and he kissed her there firmly.

His orgasm rose rapidly.

With one final stroke, he pushed himself almost to the hilt, their pelvises crushed together. He grunted and shuddered, shaking strenuously for several minutes until the feeling subsided and he could suddenly breathe again.

He kept his eyes closed as her hands caressed the back of his neck and shoulders. She kept her legs locked tight around him and breathed evenly; he was glad to lie there forever, locked in this embrace.

But he had a job to do.


	7. Chapter 7

"Has anyone been able to interpret their dreams accurately?" he asked, lying on his back.

Morphia was lying next to him, stretched out on her side. She looked up at him, tilting her head. "Of course. But it takes more than one. And hardly anything in your dreams is literal. Most of what you dream is symbols.

"And sometimes those symbols represent what you have forgotten. Or…what you wish never to remember."

Loki was quiet. Morphia breathed softly and evenly next to him, lying quite still. She let him think, hoping he was attempting to piece together the dream she had given him.

"So Thor's dream about losing an epic battle wasn't prophetic then?"

Morphia sighed and then stirred, sitting up. "Loki…"

"I'm just curious, is all. I mean, I'd like to know if I'm going to die as a result of our next great king's failure."

"He's a great warrior, is he not?

"He's all muscle and no brains. A great leader he is not. And it's quite evident."

"But he is next in line, yes?"

Loki's nostrils flared. "We both are. My father groomed us both to be kings from childhood. Thor likes to think he's to be chosen, but my father is wise to his lack of. Even if he is chosen, he will fail as Asgard's king, that I'm sure of."

"That dream was not a prophecy, Loki."

Loki sat up this time, turning his torso to face her. "Then what did it mean?"

"You're not looking in the right place for that answer," she said, placing her hand gently over his. He ripped it away and rubbed his face.

"I'm getting tired of this sibylline response. 'Your answer lies elsewhere, you're not looking in the right place.' Stop being so equivocal."

She leaned into him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "What I mean is that instead of trying to decipher the dreams of others, you should look to your own."

"Well, what about you? What do you dream about? Who gives you dreams?"

Morphia lay back, pulling the silk sheets over her breasts. "No one. I don't."

Loki furrowed his brow. "You don't dream?"

"No."

"Then how can you know what dreams are? How can you give something to someone that you've never experienced yourself?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "The questions you ask…" she said softly, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips.

"It's a legitimate question," Loki said, finding his frustration build with her every response.

"Yes, it is. That's exactly my point. No one has asked me how or why I do what I do to the extent you have. You have this incessant need to understand everything."

"Knowledge is power."

Morphia's eyes opened. "Agreed."

"So then tell me. How are you the sovereign of dreams when you've not had a dream yourself?"

She turned her head against the pillow, her long hair splayed against the sheets. "Because I can see anyone's dream. I can walk around your dreamscape like I can in this world."

Loki felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. "As yourself?" His voice was quiet now.

"If I wish. I can change my shape. I can take any human and animal form. And I can present myself in your dream if I so desire."

Loki lowered his head, feeling suddenly violated, like someone had crept into his thoughts and revealed his darkest secrets. He pushed the sheets off his legs and slipped to the side of the bed. With his back to her, Loki felt his thoughts race. He had the power to be in several places at once, but to be able to penetrate someone's mind…that kind of power…it was an incredible way to understand one's enemies, or to manipulate. To shape shift. He was incredibly envious.

He looked over his shoulder at her. She was lying on her side now, facing him, her cheek still resting against her pillow. "And is this," he said, gesturing to her body, "your true form? Do you even have a true form?"

She nodded her head minutely, and before he could ask her to which question she was assenting, a knock on her door startled them both.

Morphia slid off the bed, taking the sheet with her, and opened the door.

An Asgardian guard stood before her. He opened his mouth to speak before he looked behind her at Loki sitting on the bed, nude. "Oh," he mumbled, lowering his eyes. "your father is looking for you, my lord. I came to ask the lady if she knew of your whereabouts."

Morphia smiled and looked back at Loki, but he was expressionless.

"Fine. I will see him at once."

Morphia closed the door and Loki began to dress. She sat down on the bed and watched him. "You must be exhausted," she said.

He sat at the foot of the bed to pull on his boots, looking behind him at her. "I'm fine." When he stood and straightened his collar, he started for the door without looking at her.

"I suspect I won't be seeing you for the next few days."

He paused and turned. "And why's that?"

"I hope you're able to find the answers to your questions, Loki. I'm sorry I couldn't give them to you."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" he asked, his hand on the door handle.

Morphia smiled knowingly. "You'd better go."

Loki, tired of her vague proclamations, smiled as well, and left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: This chapter is by far the longest, but it's a lot of retelling from what happens in the beginning of the film. Most of the retelling, however, comes from Loki's internal perspective, and segways into the next part of the story where Loki discovers his origins and Morphia becomes involved in the story once again. Hope you enjoy! –Arcee8_

When he entered his father's chambers, there were several people gathered around Odin and Thor. His mother stood a few feet away with a demure smile on her face.

He sidled up to her quietly without signaling his presence to the others.

"Father wished to see me?"

Frigga didn't startle anymore with Loki's covert ways; instead, she merely looked over her shoulder. "Loki," she said with a sympathetic but willful smile, taking his hand in her own.

Loki glanced down at it before returning his gaze to his mother's face and then over to the group gathered around his brother.

Thor was beaming proudly and shaking the hands of his friends and other prominent Asgardians. Odin too was smiling, although he was much more reserved. His eyes fell on Loki as he stood by his mother, and his demeanor changed. He slipped away from the congratulating group and went to Loki and Frigga.

"My son," he began.

"You've chosen _Thor_?" Loki couldn't keep the anger out of his voice.

Frigga's fingers gripped more tightly to his own, but he pulled away from them. He stared at his father and mother standing side by side, judging him, scrutinizing him, hoping he wouldn't make a scene.

"It's the best for Asgard, Loki. You would have been a fine king, but your brother," Odin said, but Loki interrupted him again.

"He's no brother of mine," he hissed.

Odin grabbed the back of Loki's neck, pulling him forward. Although he had made no noise, the small group behind them fell silent, turning to look at Odin and his second son.

"You will keep all tokens of anger to yourself. You will honor your king and your realm. There is no other option. Do I make myself clear, Loki?"

Loki's eyes flashed over to Thor. He at least appeared contrite, but Loki was too angry to appreciate it. Instead he focused on the pitying smiles the others around him tried to hide and felt his whole body go hot.

He forced his face to relax and his fists to unclench. With his father's fingers still gripping the back of his neck, he lowered his head in acknowledgment to his father's demands. Odin's grip released, and before the tension in the room got any thicker, Loki slipped away.

The roar of the crowds as Thor walked down the pathway between rows of Asgardians and guards towards the dais that held his soon-to-be throne grated on Loki's utmost nerve.

Not that anyone would notice. Loki kept his anger in check and pasted a look of general innocence on his face.

Thor's smugness was too much, however. He waved at the crowds and winked at his friends. Even a deprecating look from his mother couldn't quell his obvious joy at being the center of attention.

Loki stood on the steps up to the dais and fought boredom.

His gaze fell on the crowd just surrounding the throne form, but she wasn't there.

He wished he had spoken to Morphia since their last conversation before Thor's being chosen as king, but he'd been too angry at the world to deal with her style of comfort. He was more than perturbed at the idea that no one seemed to fathom that his anger was justified, even her. He suspected that she knew more than she was letting on, but she was too hard to crack. There was already enough power being wielded over him that he didn't need her power suffocating him too.

The crack of the guards' staffs brought Loki back to attention. He kept the wave of anger at bay as Thor kneeled beneath his father, imagining himself there instead.

"Thor, Odinson, my heir, my first born, so long entrusted with the mighty hammer, Mjolnir, forged in the heart of a dying star."

Loki glanced down at Mjolnir. He supposed that Thor needed such a weapon seeing as how he possessed no wit or cunning.

"I have defended Asgard and the lives of the innocent across the nine realms in the time of the great beginning," Odin continued. "The day has come to—"

Loki drowned out the rest of the speech and Thor's prideful responses. He instead thought about his Jotenheim dream, Morphia's body briefly, and many variations in which Thor fails as the new king, thus causing Odin to shame him publicly and call Loki to be the new king instead.

His dreaming was interrupted as he felt a strange sense of foreboding fill his chest.

"Then on this day, I, Odin all-father, proclaim you…"

Odin stopped speaking mid-sentence, just a few words away from naming Thor king of Asgard, sensing too what Loki felt.

He slammed his staff to the ground, startling everyone, and the motioned for both Loki and Thor to follow him.

They left the confused crowds of the coronation ceremony and traveled down into the bowels of the palace.

Loki followed behind Odin closely, exhilarated to know that Thor had not yet been crowned due to the interruption. He glanced over at Thor as they walked briskly side by side. His brow was furrowed and his lips drawn tight. Loki tried not to smile.

When they reached the weapon's vault, Loki and Thor glanced at one another before following their father as he pushed open the doors and descended the steps.

Loki was in awe at what he witnessed. The Destroyer, an indestructible weapon kept locked at all times was just stepping back into its prison, the bars materializing after it. When it was locked up again, the three stepped forward into the vault.

Two guards were dead and the remains of a few Frost Giants littered the ground nearby.

Thor began to ramble on about the audacity of the Frost Giants attempt to steal items from the vault while Odin calmly surveyed the scene. Thor continued to threaten war upon the Frost Giants—Odin carefully replaced the item the Frost Giants had obviously tried to steal: the Casket of Ancient Winters.

"The casket is safe. All is well."

Thor looked bewildered. "All is well? They broke into the weapon's vault. If the Frost Giants had stolen even on of these relics—"

"But they didn't," Odin interrupted.

"I want to know why!"

They had heard all about the truce with Laufey, the Jotun king. For as far back as Loki could remember, he'd been told of the war and the truce and the peace that Odin had established for all of the nine realms. Even though he was still excited that Thor's coronation had been cut short just before being named king, Loki too was perturbed by the Frost Giant's invasion.

"Laufey broke your truce, father. They know you are vulnerable!"

Loki inwardly scoffed. Thor was bold.

He expected a sharp rebuke (he was sure _he'd_ have been having said such a thing to his father), but Odin was calm. "What action would you have taken?"

"March into Jotenheim as you once did. Teach them a lesson. Break their spirits so they never think of crossing our borders again."

"You're thinking only as a warrior."

_What else is new?_ Loki thought to himself.

"This was an act of war!"

Thor's anger was rising—the veins in his neck bulged. Loki didn't often agree with Thor's brutish manner of thought, but he had to admit that Thor was right. The Frost Giants had invaded Asgard against the truce between their kings, or perhaps as a command from their own. This kind of act should not be taken lightly.

"It was an act of but a few, doomed to fail," Odin replied. He spoke with a wisdom that Loki envied.

"Look how far they got!"

Odin nodded slightly. "We will look for weaknesses in our defenses—"

"As king of Asgard," Thor began.

"But you're not king!" Odin said, his voice rising.

The shocked look on Thor's face was enough to make Loki's year.

"Not yet," Odin added.

Later, when the Asgardians in attendance of the coronation went back to their homes and the vault cleaned up and guarded once again, Loki entered the empty feast hall where Thor was sitting in deep contemplation amidst the cancelled celebratory feast.

It was hard to feel sorry for him, but Loki did agree with Thor's desire for revenge against the Frost Giants. They should pay for their brazen intrusion of Asgard. Their father's hesitance to act was wise, Loki knew, and attacking them in return was sure to cause more problems than solve them.

Which is exactly why Loki felt compelled to feel sympathetic to Thor's anguish. Or at least that's what Thor would think.

"It's unwise to be in my company right now, brother."

"Who said I was wise?" Loki asked.

Thor ignored him as he sat beside him on the steps. "This was to be my day of triumph."

Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded in agreement. "It will come. In time." He felt like gagging. "If it's any consolation, I think you're right. About the Frost Giants, about Laufey, everything. If a few of them could penetrate the defenses of Asgard once, who's to say they won't try again. Next with an army."

Thor raised in head in surprise, not used to Loki agreeing with him. "Yes, exactly!"

"But there's nothing we can do without defying Father."

Loki waited. He watched Thor consider this, look at his hammer, and spring from his seat beside Loki. "No…stop there! I know that look!"

Thor spun around, Mjolnir in his hand. "It's the only way to ensure the safety of our borders."

"It's madness!"

Sif and the warriors three entered the hall behind Thor. "Madness? What sort of madness?" Volstagg asked, his eyes set on the table full of uneaten food.

"Nothing! Thor was making a jest," Loki said.

"The safety of our realm is no jest. We are going to Jotunheim."

Even if Loki had honestly wanted to stop Thor from defying their father's orders, he now didn't think he could. Thor was determined.

His halfhearted attempts to stop Thor fell on deaf ears.

And now they were standing in Jotunheim.

Snow and ice assaulted them as they moved north toward the ruins of a Jotun city. The atmosphere was so like his dream that Loki felt suddenly anxious, nervous about what was to come.

"Perhaps we should wait."

Thor didn't stop walking but glanced over his shoulder at him. "For what?"

Loki wasn't exactly sure, only that a feeling of apprehension had set his teeth on edge. "To survey the enemy," he managed to come up with. "To gauge their strengths and weaknesses from a distance."

The others echoed similar sentiments under the guise of good battle technique, but Thor urged them on.

As they neared the city temple, a sense of foreboding fell upon the group. Shadowy creatures moved in the ruins all around them.

"Where are they?" Sif asked.

"Hiding. As cowards always do," Thor responded, his voice loud and full of hubris.

"What is your business here, Asgardian?" a deep voice asked from the shadows above them. Loki could see a crumbling balcony jutting out from before a waterfall.

"I am Laufey, King of this realm," the voice continued.

Thor opened his mouth to speak. "And I am—"

"We know who you are, Odinson. Why have you brought the stench of your blood into my world?"

"I demand answers," Thor said, his jaw hardening.

"You _demand_?" Laufey asked.

"How do your people get into Asgard?"

"The house of Odin is full of traitors."

Thor growled. "Do not dishonor my father's name with your lies."

The group could see Laufey's red eyes turn to slits. "Your father is a murderer and a thief. He stole what was ours, and left our world in ruins. We have the right to reclaim the Casket."

The two went back and forth for several minutes, each taking measurements of one another's superiority. Loki noticed that several Frost Giants had moved out of the shadows, towering over them with their blue skin and red eyes.

"Thor, stop and think. Look around you. We are outnumbered," Loki implored, knowing it would be impossible to crack Thor's thick skill with logic.

"Know your place, brother."

In fact, Loki did know his place. Always one step behind, always the subordinate. But not anymore. He could prove to his father that he was the better man, the smarter man. He was an Odinson, after all.

Laufey stepped out of the shadows. He was ancient looking, but still a body and brain of nothing but muscle and brawn. "You should listen to his counsel. You know not what your actions would unleash. But I do. Go now…while I still allow it."

Loki stepped forward and bowed slightly, looking at Laufey, imagining they were equals. "We will accept your most gracious offer."

Thor stared down Laufey, ignoring the gentle tug on his elbow until finally he relents.

Loki is pleased with his diplomacy until he hears Laufey's deep voice continue behind them. "Run back home, little princess."

With a deep sigh, Loki felt Thor turn and thrust his hammer at a nearby Frost Giant. "Damn," he said muttered under his breath, and then the battle was on.

Loki, his only weapons a few daggers and magic, ducked as a large chunk of ice came hurtling towards his head. He made a run for it, sliding against the icy floor until he hit a wall in the temple. The collision was hard and he had to duck again as the wall began to crumble.

He found himself standing in the open. Looking about him, he noticed a Frost Giant approaching him, his red eyes glaring at him, his right arm a frozen sword, reared back and ready to strike.

Loki backed away slowly, unsure of what to do. When his left heel suddenly felt not ground, he looked behind him to see that he was backed up to a cliff.

When he looked back, the Frost Giant raised his arm to attack.

His sword passed through Loki's body as if he was made of thin air. Confused, the Frost Giant looked at his arm until he was knocked through Loki from behind and into the crevasse below. Loki shook his head and snapped his fingers, the false Loki disappearing. "Pathetic," he said as he turned back towards the battle.

The warriors were slaying Frost Giants left and right, Thor in the middle, thoroughly enjoying himself.

He sees Volstagg nearby, having been touched by a Jotun on his bare arm. His flesh necrotized from the searing cold. "Don't let them touch you!" he shouted.

Out of the corner of his eye, a Frost Giant barreled towards him. Turning swiftly, he flung two daggers, hitting him in the chest.

He surprised him by lunging for him still, gripping both of his gloved wrists in his large, blue hands.

Loki yanked his hands free of the gloves, his wrist armor shattering in the process. The wounded Jotun snarled and dropped the gloves, gripping Loki's bare arm. Instead of the deep cold and dying flesh he expected, his arm turned blue, very much like the Giant's, and very much in the same manner as his dream.

The blueness spreads up and down his arm; it doesn't hurt.

Both the Giant and Loki are confused for a moment until Loki kicks the giant as hard as he can, shoving the daggers still jutting from his chest even deeper.

The moment the Giant releases him, the blue dissipates and Loki shudders.

Looking around him, the warriors were being swamped by more and more Giants. This was stupid. It was a death trap. It no longer served its purpose and Loki wanted to leave.

When the ground cracked beneath their feet and a deep tremor pulsed across the entire expanse of the chapel floor, Loki decided it was definitely time to go.

"Thor! We must go!"

"Then go!" Thor shouted, ignorant as always to the real dangers that lie before him and his comrades. When he raised the hammer and slammed it down into the ground, the ice cracked more deeply and the group looked at one another in terror.

The cracking ice moved them back, and they made a run for open territory.

An army of Frost Giants chased after them.

When they were backed up against a cliff again, cornered and waiting an inevitable death, thunder rocked the sky and a flash of light blinded them all.

It was Odin.

Loki breathed a sigh of relief but felt ashamed at being unable to control the situation better.

Sitting stoically atop his rather large horse, dressed in battle armor and holding his staff, Odin met Laufey's gaze.

"Laufey. End this."

"Your boy sought this out," Laufey growled, his shoulder hunched.

Loki could feel Thor stiffen behind him and held back a knowing smile.

"You're right," Odin said. "These are the actions of a boy. Treat them as such. You and I can stop this before there's further bloodshed."

Laufey shook his head almost imperceptibly. "We are beyond diplomacy now, Allfather. He'll get what he came for—war and death."

Loki felt the hair on his arms rise and a dead sweat came over him even though the temperature around them was freezing. He gazed down at his bare arm again, his skin color normal as ever, and then he looked to Laufey once more.

Laufey's red eyes flickered over to him once, briefly, before he glared at Odin again.

"So be it," Odin said lowly, and without warning, Laufey lunged for him with his ice blade, but Odin brought his staff down upon the ice, shattering it.

The Frost Giants leapt back in fear, some turning to run.

Thor was delighted to see them run like cowards. He looked up at his father with a large smile. "Now! We'll finish them together!"

"Silence!" Odin raised his spear and a hole in the sky opened. The Bifrost extended down from above, enveloping the Asgardians and pulling them up.

When they returned to Asgard, they stood breathing heavily in Heimdall's observatory. Odin pulled Heimdall's sword from the panel in the center of the room and throws it to him. He backed away ceremoniously.

Loki stood a few feet from Thor and his father, feeling the anger between them swelling.

"Why did you bring us back?" Thor asked angrily.

"Do you realize what you've done? What you've started?"

"I was protecting my home."

"You can't even protect your friends! How can you hope to protect a kingdom?" Odin shouted, pointing to the warriors. Fandral, who had been stabbed by a Frost Giant, was being held by Sif, Volstagg, and Hogun. "Get him to the healing room!"

The small group fled, not wanting to be in the path of Odin's wrath.

"There won't be a kingdom to protect if you're afraid to act!" Thor shouted back.

Odin stared at Thor with his one eye, the blue iris focused intently on him. Loki felt like a fly on the wall.

"Whatever the cost, the world must know that the new King of Asgard will not be held in contempt."

"That's pride and vanity that talks!" Odin said. "Not leadership! Have you forgotten everything I've taught you? What of a warrior's patience, cunning? 

"While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us! The old ways are done. You'd stand giving speeches while Asgard falls!"

Odin's nostrils flared. "You're a vain, greedy, cruel boy!

"And you're an old man and a fool!"

Everything stood still. Loki, elated to have seen Thor torn to shreds by their father, felt suddenly uneasy. Odin was now completely and eerily calm.

"A fool, yes! I was a fool to think you were ready."

Odin had taken a step back towards the Bifrost panel, and Loki suddenly realized what he meant to do. He too stepped forward, towards Odin but hesitated. Thor was not made king—Odin had even said that he wasn't ready. Loki could prove to his father that _he_ was, that he himself could be forgiving to his brother's follies…

"Father—"

Odin gave him a look that stopped him in his tracks and turned back to Thor.

"Thor Odinson... You have disobeyed the express command of your King. Through your arrogance and stupidity, you have opened these peaceful Realms and innocent lives to the horrors of war."

Odin plunged his spear into the control panel, turning the turret. The Bifrost energy built as the turret spun and then fired, opening the Bifrost at the end of the platform and creating a portal behind Thor.

"You are unworthy of this Realm." He ripped a piece from Thor's chest.

"…unworthy of your title…" Thor's cloak is torn from his armor.

"…unworthy of the loved ones you've betrayed. I hereby take from you your powers."

Mjolnir flew from Thor's fingertips and into Odin's hand. "In the name of my father, and of his father before, I cast you out!"

Thor was yanked from his position as if an invisible rope was tied to his waist and into the portal, disappearing into the Bifrost.

Loki could hardly believe his eyes. Odin held Mjolnir to his lips, whispering something Loki could not hear, and then threw the hammer with all his strength into the vortex. It too disappeared.

Without saying another word, Odin pulled his spear from the panel, the portal disintegrated, and he left the platform.

Finally alone, Loki let the events of the previous few hours sink in.

Thor was banished. Gone forever. His father was furious at his prideful, disobedient, king-to-be. And Loki was the last remaining son.

He smiled in spite of himself, even though he had a strange feeling of regret lingering in his mind. As he walked back to the palace alone, along the Rainbow Bridge, the night sky glittering with stars and the white swells of the waves crashing beneath him, Loki gazed down at his arm again.


	9. Chapter 9

_AN: There are supposed to be breaks in this chapter, but regardless of how many different ways I try to make them stick, they don't. I've resorted to numbering them. Sorry. :/ The beginning is obvious, so I have marked break #2 and #3 with the number beside the first word of the break. _

He found himself in the weapon's vault again. The room had been tidied and its possessions cleaned and reordered.

Loki stood in front of the Casket of Winters, the item the Frost Giants had been after, and the thing for which Thor had consequently been banished.

The blue, square shaped item looked harmless, but Loki knew better. It was impossible to recall, however, the number of times his father had told Loki and Thor about the Jotenheim war and how the Frost Giants were bent on using the Casket to take over the nine realms. Only Frost Giants could touch the casket without being harmed, or at least that's what Loki thought.

When he touched the casket himself, his hands trembling as they neared the handles, he marveled at how his fingers and wrists began to turn blue.

"Stop!"

Loki, entranced by what was happening to his body, looked over his shoulder slowly, his arms having lifted the casket from its pedestal. Odin came rushing into the vault.

"Am I cursed?" Loki asked, still holding the casket, the blue inching up his neck and towards his face.

"No. Put the casket down."

Loki did as he was told. The moment his fingers released the casket, his skin returned to normal.

He turned to his father slowly, a pain filling his chest. "What am I?" he asked earnestly.

"You are my son."

"What more than that?"

Odin didn't respond. He looked suddenly weary, burdened.

Loki's mind was moving at full speed, piecing together everything. The blue skin aside, his thoughts analyzed the information: his father's preference for Thor, his never having been in the running to be king, his outsiderness.

"The casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

Odin met his son's crystal blue eyes, glimmering. "No."

He could deny it no longer. "In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring—abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.

"Laufey's son," Loki repeated, almost as if asking a question. It didn't seem possible. How could he…a Frost Giant? He looked at his father, or at least the man he thought was his father, again. "Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child."

Loki, knowing even his father was not that altruistic, felt manic. "You took me for a purpose. What was it?"

Odin was silent, unable, or unwilling, to answer.

"Tell me!" Loki cried.

Odin closed his eye. "I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace…through you. But those plans no longer matter."

His body began to tremble at his father's words. "So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me."

Odin's eye flashed open. "Why do you twist my words?"

A solitary tear escaped Loki's eye. Too furious to wipe it away, no matter how ignominious, Loki took a step up to his father, his hands balled into fists. "You can have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?"

"You are my son. My blood. I wanted only to protect you from the truth."

Loki scoffed. "Because I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?"

"Don't…" Odin began, staggering back.

"It all makes sense now. Why you favored Thor all these years."

Odin clutched at his chest. "Listen…"

"Because no matter how much claim to _love me_," Loki began, "you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

Odin's body began to shake terribly, but Loki didn't care.

"Listen to me!"

Loki moved past him, but paused when Odin called his name. Unable to turn his back on his father, even though he was enraged, Loki turned and watched as his father staggered backwards, collapsing on the stone steps.

Hurrying to him, Loki held Odin in his arms. He called to the guards, but he was too late. Odinsleep took him over and he was lost to the world.

2)Odin was shrouded in a golden aura. Odinsleep. It had happened before, long before Loki could remember. It was a protection against extreme suffering. Loki tried to ignore his conscience trying to tell him that it was his fault. No. Not his fault. He was the victim here. It was Thor. Ignorant, undeserving Thor.

Frigga looked across the bed at Loki as he knelt beside his father. "I asked him to be honest with you from the beginning. There should be no secrets in a family."

"So why did he lie?" Loki asked the woman he'd always known to be his mother.

"He kept you from the truth so that you would never feel different. You are in every way our son, Loki, and we your family. You must know that."

Loki stared at his father's sleeping form.

"You can speak to him. He can see and hear us, even now."

Loki shuddered at the thought. Was he paralyzed, unable to wake even though he desperately wished to?

"How long will it last?"

"I don't know," his mother answered quietly. "This time is different. We were unprepared."

"I never get used to seeing him like this. The most powerful being in the Nine Realms lying helpless until his body is restored."

"But he's put it off for so long now, I fear…" Frigga responded, her voice breaking.

Loki reached across his father and took his mother's hand in his. She smiled at him lovingly and wiped away her tears with her other hand.

"You're a good son."

The words filled him with…he didn't know.

"We mustn't lose hope that you father will return to us. And your brother."

Loki met her eyes. "What hope is there for Thor?" His voice was stronger than he intended it to be and hoped it didn't betray his true feelings.

"There's always a purpose to everything your father does. Thor may yet find his way home."

Before Loki could say or do anything, a rather large guard entered the room, standing in front of the door, blocking it. Loki tensed, fearing for the worst, but the guard suddenly kneeled.

Confused, Loki looked to his mother.

"Thor is banished. The line of succession falls to you. Until he awakes, Asgard is yours."

Another guard entered carrying his father's spear. Walking up to Loki, he too kneeled, holding out the staff. Loki took it in his fingertips tentatively, looking at his mother again, who gave him an approving nod.

Gripping the spear more firmly in his hand, Loki rose and smiled.

3) It was very early morning when Loki took the throne of Asgard for himself. He entered the throne room alone.

All his life, for as much of it as he could remember, Loki had coveted the power and prestige the throne represented for him. Though Thor too always dreamed of the throne, he never had to only dream. Loki must have always known he would never be named king. He'd always felt his father's favor did not lie with him.

And although he was a master of his magic and intelligent and cunning, he was not a true son of Odin Allfather.

He sunk into the throne chair, his eyes spanning the empty room, imagining the roar of the crowds when his deed was done.

He would be a great king, and all of Asgardian would respect him.

Only one thing stood in his way now.

Thor.

He had no idea where Odin had banished him. He suspected Earth, of course. Fitting that he would be banished to live among the weakest citizens of the nine realms. Not that he'd ever met a human, but his studies were enough to educate him to their vacuous impotence. A perfect place for a man like Thor.

In order to make sure no one tested his right to the throne, Thor had to be banished forever, convinced never to come back.

He knew how to do it but not where.

Only Odin knew where Thor was and there was no one to reach him.

Except perhaps one being, a purveyor of sleep and dreams.

"The king demands your presence in his chamber at once."

Morphia nodded her head and left her chambers, following behind the guard closely. It was still night, a few hours before sunrise. She hoped that whatever Odin wanted her for would not take longer than that. It had been a long night, longer than any night she had experience before although she wasn't sure why. No one had come to see her. In fact, she'd spent most of her time reading, a generally non-strenuous activity.

But something was making her weary.

They walked for some minutes, winding up staircases, their steps echoing in the empty hallways.

A sense of foreboding filled her as they neared Odin's chambers. It was much too late for an Asgardian to be awake. Unless that Asgardian was in need of help.

When the guard opened the door to Odin's chambers, she expected to see Odin waiting for her.

Instead, he was lying on a bed in the middle of the room, a golden shroud covering his body from head to toe.

To his left stood Loki, wearing his ceremonial armor and helmet, his one hand casually holding Odin's spear against the floor.

The chamber door closed behind her with a light bang, making her jump.

She looked from Loki to Odin's sleeping form.

"Loki?"

He smiled sadly. "King Loki."

Her arms were suddenly covered in goose bumps. Things fell quickly into place. Having looked into both Thor and Loki's souls, she surmised as to Loki's now being king.

"Thor?"

"Banished," Loki said with a shrug.

"And Odin? He's alive, is he not?"

"Odinsleep. After Thor nearly brought war upon Asgard and betrayed our father," Loki said, gazing over at his father thoughtfully. "He might never wake. That's why I brought you here."

Morphia bowed her head. "Loki, I can't."

Loki strode toward her. "You're the only person who might be able to reach him."

She looked up at him. "And do what? I am aware of Odinsleep. I cannot wake him, not now."

Loki touched her arm tenderly. "Not wake him. He's much too frail for that. But Thor…"

Morphia furrowed her brows, confused. "Thor?"

"This all came about because of Thor's betrayal. It broke father's heart. If you can find out where he's been banished, I can retrieve him and together we might rouse him from his sleep. He's very much needed here. I can't do this alone."

Morphia's eyes flickered back and forth. Loki stared at her, steadfast and earnest. "Please," he asked, his fingers caressing her forearm.

His touch felt strangely cold all of a sudden. Feeling it too, he quickly lowered his hand and stepped aside, raising the spear towards his father.

Morphia moved to Odin's bedside, kneeling carefully by his side. She had never exposed her powers to anyone other than her mother.

And now Loki was standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at her, a rabid look in his eyes, almost as if he was excited about something. She placed a hand gently on Odin's bare arm and looked up at Loki.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"Why wouldn't it? You said you could see anyone's dream, that you could walk around in it as if it were reality."

"I can, but—"

"But what? You doubt yourself _now_?" Loki asked, his voice rising a little.

Morphia could feel Odin's pulse under her palm. She could feel her own hand shaking. Something seemed wrong, something she couldn't pinpoint. Her eyes closed briefly.

Loki grew quiet, believing her to be working, entering his father's dreamscape, but she was centering herself. She opened her eyes again and Loki looked hopeful.

"He's not consented to my presence, Loki," she said finally.

"So?"

"It would be unethical to enter somewhere so private without the consent of the dreamer."

Loki took a deep breath and went to her side, kneeling next to her. "In ordinary circumstances, I would agree, but Asgard is in danger without him. Morphia, please. You're the only person who can help him."

Morphia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling Loki's close proximity. It was comforting in the same way that it was frightening. With Loki by her side, Morphia entered Odin's sleep.

_She opened her eyes. It was blindingly white. Everywhere she looked, she saw nothing but white. To ground herself, she held her arm out in front of her, the pale pink flesh the only contrasting color she could see. _

_Walking forward, she realized there was no sound. It was so quiet, she could hear the beat of her heart in her ears, the sound of every step even though she was barefoot. _

_She thought about morphing into something else, something to give her guidance in this world of nothingness, but there was nothing she could think of that made sense. She walked for what felt like eternity until suddenly she became aware of a depth approaching, like that of a cliff side._

_When her toes slid off the edge of nothing, she leaned forward and looked down._

_She was looking down on a strange looking city like she'd never seen before. Her gaze came from a very high height, that she could tell from the miniature size of everything: the buildings, strange looking objects that moved fluidly from one street to the next, and people. _

_She willed herself down to the town. _

_Standing invisible to the people around her, she marveled at their strange clothing. The ground was dusty and the air hot. As she looked around her, her eyes fell on a group entering a building with a large sign in the shape of some sort of cup. She followed them, entering a room filled with tables and chairs and a long counter in front of some sort of cooking station. The group she'd seen earlier was sitting at a table._

_Thor!_

_He was wearing similar strange clothing to the people surrounding him and drinking a dark liquid from a cup in the same shape as the sign._

_This was where Thor was banished. _

_She backed out of the building and walked into the middle of the street. Standing still, she let the world pass by her, her eyes scanning everything in the hope of finding the name of this peculiar city._

_She watched as the strange object she'd seen from the cliff rolled by her. A woman was sitting inside of it, her hands around a wheel. Watching it as it passed right by her, Morphia read the name on the side: New Mexico Medical._

_New Mexico Medical, she said. _

_With the information she sought, Morphia turned and began to close her eyes and prepare for her return when something familiar came into view._

_Odin stood at the far end of the street. In this world he no longer wore the eye patch. Even from so far away, she could feel his piercing blue eyes bore into her and she felt like she'd been caught stealing. An overwhelming shame filled her body and she cried out._

_Before she could do anything, she was pushed forward, landing in the dirt. She rolled over on her back and the town disappeared. The whiteness became unbearable and she screamed. Everything pressed down on her all at once and she felt like she was being suffocated by an invisible blanket._

_She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to return to the real world, to leave this dream, but when she opened her eyes hoping to be back in Odin's chambers, instead she saw Loki standing over her. Only his skin was a deep blue. Behind him stood a battalion of Frost Giants. When he grinned and reached for her, she screamed again._

Morphia fell backwards, hitting the back of her head against the stone floor. She breathed heavily, tears rolling into her hairline as she lay on the floor.

"What happened? Did you find Thor?" Loki asked, leaning over her, appearing concerned.

He laid the spear on the floor beside her and picked her head up gently, cupping the back of it with his hand. "Are you alright?"

The coldness of his palm was like wearing a crown of ice. She cried out again and crawled back, putting as much space between them as she could.

Loki looked confused at her behavior, raising his hands in the air as if in surrender. "It's just me."

Morphia scrambled to her feet, ripping the hem of her dress in the process. Loki stood as well, slowly moving toward her, his hands still held out in front of him.

She lunged for him, pushing his hands away and pressing both of hers against his chest.

"What—" he began, but he froze when he felt the familiar coldness spread out from her fingertips. He tried to take a step back but she shadowed him too closely, refusing to take her hands from him.

He gripped both her wrists in his hands and started to push her back when he was shocked to see his skin turning blue again. He felt the blueness creep across his skin, up his neck and face. His eyesight turned a hazy pink and when he exhaled, his breath turned to condensation.

He stared at Morphia, bewildered.

Her lips turned purple and she began to shake violently, but she stared into his eyes fervently, her nostrils flared.

Loki pushed her back violently so that they were no longer touching.

His eyesight returned to normal and they both watched as his blue skin faded into pink.

"You know," she said, her lips still blue and teeth chattering.

Loki clenched his jaw. "Yes, I know."

"How did you find out? Was it the dream?"

Loki looked confused for a second until he realized what she was talking about. The dream. The dream! His mind's eye flickered through the still images of that uneasy dream—that's what she'd been trying to tell him. He rolled his eyes at his own ignorance, his complete lack of self-awareness. Morphia furrowed her brow at this gesture, the color returning to her face. In fact, she could feel a heat rising from within her chest, spilling out into her fingertips and ears. She was too deep in thought, however, to recognize her own signs.

Loki shook his head. "Jotunheim. Thor and his disciples. Why he was banished…directly disobeying father's orders. A Frost Giant touched my bare arm."

Morphia let out the breath she'd been holding. "And?"

"And what?"

"Now that you know your true origins? Doesn't it change the way you feel?"

Loki stared at her as if she were a two-headed beast. "Of course."

Morphia felt some of the uneasiness in her body release at Loki's admission and she smiled softly.

"It's hard to embrace, but it's possible. Knowing your true self? Isn't it freeing?"

A grunt escaped Loki's lips in a sardonic chuckle. "And how would you know?"

She swallowed and became suddenly aware of the heat radiating in her body. The hair raised on her arms as she realized the darkness in the room was dissipating. When she turned her head to look suspiciously around the room, her eyes fell on the open windows where the sun was just barely beginning to rise above the horizon in the distance. Loki lunged forward and gripped her bare shoulders.

The coldness of his hands and heat from her skin made them both jump, but Loki ignored it for the moment.

"Morphia, tell me what you saw in Odin's sleep. Did you find out where Thor was banished?"

Her entire body shuddered under his hands and she closed her eyes, feeling strange. "You said finding out about your true self changed the way you felt. Tell me how. Please."

Her voice seemed strained, almost as if she were fighting to push out the words. Loki felt her body slacken slightly in his hands, her whole weight held up by them. "I know I'm nothing like Thor. I'm not my father's son. I'm not even an Asgardian." He leaned in so that his mouth was on her ear. "I'm the enemy."

Sunlight began to pour into the room from the partially opened windows. Morphia pushed herself away from him with tears in her eyes.

Loki had backed her into a corner. Her eyes flicked desperately across the whole room, looking for a shred of darkness, a shadow, somewhere the light couldn't touch. She could feel her body reacting to the light and crouched in fear like a trapped animal.

The tension in Loki's body melted away absentmindedly as he watched her sink to the floor on her hands and knees. He became so entranced by her bizarre behavior he'd forgotten what he wanted her for.

Her head drooped towards the floor and her long hair covered her face. He watched as thin ridges appeared on her bare arms and black lines traveled up her skin as if written by an unseen hand. They snaked up from her fingers, around her forearms and biceps, disappearing under her dress.

Her fingers suddenly mutated into claws and curled, clawing at the floor as if she was in pain. She howled and Loki took a step back in amazement as the back of her gown ripped and two wings sprouted upwards, growing until they were nearly six feet long.

They spread to their full width and she was lifted from the floor as if a puppet on strings.

With her head raised, Loki could see her full face now. The whites of her eyes were completely black, and black lines traveled up from her chest to her cheeks, across her forehead and into her hairline.

Her transformation complete, Morphia hovered a few feet above the floor, Loki looking up at her in awe.

"Wha—" Loki mumbled.

Morphia closed her eyes and lowered her head in shame. "My true self. In the light."

"But…how? Why?"

"I am a creature of darkness, Loki. I've said as much before."

Loki was dumbfounded. He took another step back.

"My father was human, my mother, a daemon."

"Father…Odin recognized you as a goddess…" Loki stammered.

Morphia's wings fluttered briefly and her toes touched the floor. "That I am as well. That's what I always thought I was. My mother kept me in the dark for twelve years, eleven months, and twenty-eight days. I did not see sunlight until my thirteenth birthday.

"When the light hit my skin for the first time, the pain was unbearable. It was like being buried in burning coals. I transformed, I looked in the mirror, and then I cried.

"So you see, I know what it's like to discover that you're not who you thought you were."

Loki stared at this creature, no longer the beautiful, sensual Morphia she'd been moments before. He stared at his own reflection in her being, the monster within, torn from its hiding place. Morphia seemed bent on keeping it hidden, but Loki felt something more. He felt power he never knew he possessed before. Gazing into Morphia's black eyes, even then he could see her yearning for compassion. And understanding. He couldn't give in to that now. He still had so much work to do.

Loki, although still reeling from her sudden transformation, focused back on the task at hand. "Tell me where father has banned Thor."

"What for?" she asked, her heels now flat against the smooth floor, her wings folded behind her.

"I told you. So I can retrieve him and bring Odin back."

"I don't believe you."

He lowered an eyebrow. "Have I given you a reason not to?"

She was still for a long time until she turned her back to him, giving him a full view of the pale, cream-colored wings folded against the length of her backside. One by one, she closed the open windows of the room, pulling the floor to ceiling draperies closed with them.

When the only light that remained in the room was the golden aura of Odin's shroud, Morphia's wings fell to ashes, the opening in her back closed up, and her fingers and skin returned to normal.

Turning back around, her eyes were green once again. She reached up and pulled together the torn shoulder of her gown, clenching it in her fists.

"I won't help you kill your brother."

Loki blinked a few times. "Excuse me?"

"I don't know what your plan is for Odin, but I won't tell you where Thor is so you can kill him. And knowing as I do the respect you have for your father, you must know that doing so would not earn his respect in return."

An amused smile spread across Loki's lips. "I can honestly say that you're wrong. I don't wish to kill Thor."

Morphia's lips reciprocated. "I don't think honesty is in your tiny repertoire of honorable qualities."

"My, how the tides have turned!" Loki declared, amused but frustrated by Morphia's constant challenges. He turned his back on her and strolled over to the door of Odin's chambers.

"Loki…" her voice implored.

He turned, his fingertips on the handle. "If you won't help me save my father, the previous King of Asgard, then your invitation here is rebuked."

He turned the handle but didn't open the door. He waited, as if expecting this threat to make her tell him Thor's location.

Instead, Morphia moved to him, standing close, too close for comfort. "Your father loves you, Loki. Your mother loves you. Even Thor loves you. You don't have to go looking for it. It's standing in front of you. You don't have to prove it to yourself."

Loki's face was unchanged. He didn't even blink. "You think this is about love?" he asked, his voice low. "Love is a weak, human emotion. This is about respect."

"It's a pity you think they're mutually exclusive."

"It's a pity you think they aren't," Loki replied, pulling the door open. Light from the open veranda outside beamed in, hitting Morphia on the arm. She pushed the door closed forcefully.

"I will rescind my request to sojourn in Asgard," she said, her hand still pressed against the door, "but I must wait until darkness."

Loki's chest rose and fell before he pushed her gently to the side, opened the door, and left Morphia alone in the golden light of Odin's sleeping form.

She pressed herself up against the wall beside the door and slid down to the floor, drawing her legs up to her chest.


End file.
